


Kisses from Reality

by Philiah



Series: Senpai's Sorrows (Patched) [2]
Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel), Friday Night Funkin' (Video Game), Gravity Falls
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Family Fluff, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29352564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philiah/pseuds/Philiah
Summary: No siblings, no parents, he almost forgets the concept of a family until he sees mysterious sticky notes every so often on his fridge that seem to be addressed from his so-called sisters.
Relationships: Senpai (Friday Night Funkin') & Monika (Doki Doki Literature Club!) & .GIFfany (Gravity Falls)
Series: Senpai's Sorrows (Patched) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156124
Comments: 20
Kudos: 143





	1. They Sting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So attractive of me to say I'll write very nice fluff of him then proceed to make him cry (he cries fr in this) then leave the fluff as a cliffhanger <3

He doesn’t exactly remember being a child. 

And if he ever was a child before, he certainly doesn’t remember being gently caressed by a loving hand bigger than his own or being kissed upon his pudgy little cheeks and stubby little hands. He doesn’t remember a smile that looks like his, gentle eyes that fluttered like his, hair that swayed and curled like his.

The whole idea of ‘family’ is foreign to him. He has never seen a sister or a brother before, much less a father or a mother. Only sons and daughters with various vague names that go home to the same copy-pasted houses. Nobody seems to notice but him. It’s always him that sees these things.

No siblings, no parents, he almost forgets the concept of a family until he sees mysterious sticky notes every so often on his fridge - which is littered with stickers and notes he had long torn off, leaving traces of a tape’s after-presence and scratched out paper - that seem to be addressed from his so-called sisters. 

They’re the only things that didn’t seem to follow a script; sometimes they said encouraging things like, “Have a nice day today!” “Hang in there. Your big sister will be home soon.” “Don’t forget to eat!”

Other times they said pretty strange things; “Do you know how to code like we do?” (He already guessed there are two sisters, judging from the occasional switch of handwriting) “Do you know how to bring people in?” “What do you think love is to you?”

He doesn’t pay much mind to them, even though they seem just as alive as he is - at least, he _thinks_ he’s alive. He feels tempted to reply sometimes, but the sheer idea of getting no response or answer stops him all the time. These notes give him some form of comfort, it makes him feel less alone in a world of ones and zeros, and if they turn out just to be a _really_ well done script, then…

He might just die.

He ignores that possible reality by constantly fantasizing about having an actual family. He doesn’t know his sisters’ names - he doesn’t even know his own name - so he usually just calls them by “Pixels” and “Loopy”.

Pixels because, weirdly enough, the curls of her letters often pixelate instead of properly curling around. Her ‘j’s and ‘c’s were never that smooth, almost as if she does it on purpose.

Loopy because, unlike his other so-called sister, her words are slightly tilted and curled. Her capitalized ‘T’s sometimes had a small squiggle to the straight horizontal line.

He likes to think that maybe they are the type to dote on him - he will never admit it out loud though, but he enjoys the thought of being loved. He wants to think they look just as good as him, and if they were ever here, the three would be known as the Stunning Trio - or perhaps something less embarrassingly named.

Maybe they’re the kind to teach him a thing or two, just for the fun of it, and he likes to think that he’ll be annoying and decline the offers at first. 

“Oh come on,” they would say. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

“How annoying,” he mutters under his breath, standing in front of his home. 

“You’re annoying.” They would huff back.

He smiles, just a little.

Then he opens his door and finds no annoyed sisters at all.

No one at all.

“Prepare for a surprise!” Loopy’s note says, in its usual cute loops and curls.

He blinks blearily at it, picking at the corner of the sticky note. He takes it down from the fridge and pastes it in his notebook filled with other sticky notes from his sisters.

He learnt that these notes sometimes don’t mean anything, like how they regularly said they would “home soon!” but they never come, so he dismisses this another random note. Maybe he’ll think of something later, make it a fantasy thought prompt.

Surprises are sometimes about birthdays right? Maybe it’s his birthday today.

_Maybe they really are coming home today._

_Don’t be ridiculous._

He thumbs his pajama top buttons and walks back to his room to get ready for his repeated day.

He isn’t sure why he still tries to pretend everything is okay, nothing much happens anymore that makes the days he wake up to appealing; he supposes it’s because he’d rather go on with the life he has rather than mope around about how meaningless it actually is. The only thing he ever looks forward to are the notes from his sisters, and maybe, like, five compliments that are _totally_ not continuously recurring.

He only notices something is off when he reaches the school. Jacket slung over his shoulder, he barely reaches the school gate when he notices a crowd of people gathering at the front.

There’s a weird buzzing in the air, the kind that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand, and he wonders if maybe, just _maybe_ , that the note from this morning from Loopy wasn’t just some...lie.

“If I had known plugging the speakers into this dating sim would transport us _into_ the game, I would’ve honestly not done it in the first place!” A girl in red says, hands resting on her cheeks as she stared down at a slightly shorter boy with a red hat. She looks upset to say the least, which really is a first for him because he hasn’t seen that expression on a fair maiden in quite a while.

His first instinct was to assume this girl in red _could_ be his sister, but it doesn’t take him long to realize she’s just… Well, he actually has no idea who she’s _supposed_ to be. Yet, something about her feels so _attractive,_ and it isn’t just because she’s good looking.

He’s drawn to her.

He wonders why.

He’s curious.

He wonders if it’s possible for someone to possess a superiority complex _and_ an inferiority complex at the same time. He _relishes_ in the song battle between him and the blue boy, feeling enjoyment out of something for the first time ever. Yet, with how spoilt he is from being the best all the time, he couldn’t handle defeat. In fact, it pisses him off how this useless nobody entered _his_ domain and dared to be _better_ than him. 

But on the other hand, it’s such a nice breath of fresh air for someone to be better than him for once.

It still pisses him off.

He’s conflicted.

It hurts his brain.

This is so fun.

He hopes this never ends, but he knows it will. And when that time comes, he knows they’ll leave. They can’t leave. He’ll be alone again. He won’t let them leave.

 _Take me with you_ . He feels the song drawing to an end, his words leaking with venomous spite and maybe something else. _I want to get out too._

The blue boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead continuing his song with the intent to land the final blow. 

He wants out. He wants out so bad, it feels like he’s going to explode.

So he does.

And it’s such a beautiful yet ugly revelation, to see that he was a horrible monster the whole time. Flickering, glitching, hovering above the ground dripping red. He’s practically screaming with desperation, but he remains in a physical state of serenity throughout it all. If they plan to leave without him, then he’ll just have to take their bodies instead.

Especially _her_.

Defeat is such a wonderful feeling. The idea of winning plays with his heart, letting it dance on the tip of its fingers, before dropping his heart carelessly and stomping it with its feet. Scatter, the bits scatter, however, even so...

He has never felt so alive.

They’re gone now, and he’s normal again. The world feels a lot more different than before, but he can’t pinpoint what exactly changed. The sun hangs low behind his school, peeking from the top as the sky turns orange-yellow. A small breeze picks up in a terribly cliche way, causing the cherry blossom petals to fly over his head.

He flexes his fingers, as if expecting the microphone to still be there, but it isn’t. He wishes he could do that all over again, and it wouldn’t even matter if he would lose again or not. Alas, reality is yet again cruel to him. He picks his jacket up from the ground and pats the dust off it, straightening his loose tie as he makes his way home.

It doesn’t exactly hit him how close he was to having a breakdown from realizing how breathtakingly _close_ he was to achieving freedom until the door clicks shut behind him. Expectations and hope take his breath away, but the cold reality steals and sucks it out like a parasite.

In a literal sense. Right now.

He quivers and shakes as he presses his back against the door, dropping his jacket so he could hold his face. He can’t breathe, his face warms and his eyes wet. The tears run down his cheek like a knife slicing his skin lightly, and he grips his blonde locks as he begins to curl inwardly.

He doesn’t cry like this. He doesn’t cry often. The droplets usually came down like light rain, gently tapping against his window kind, but this feels like a storm.

He rubs his eyes, sniffling and sobbing into his knees, his arms, his hands. It isn’t fair, it isn’t fair at all.

What did he ever do?

He manages to calm down eventually, fingers still shaking as he pulls himself up to head to bed. He stumbles on his way there, grabbing a few tissues to clean his face. He feels better, sorta, but he’ll get over it in due time. He has plenty.

He doesn’t bother to change out as he flops onto his mattress, instantly knocking out.

When he wakes up, he notices that his nose is clogged and that his body feels way too hot. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, so he tries to sit up, but fails. He feels like he had been loaded with weights, limbs heavy like lead, and growls in frustration.

He isn’t sure what exactly tells him this, but he thinks he might be sick - despite the fact that he has never been sick before. Then, after failing to move for the second time, he decides he’ll just lie in bed and notices a second thing.

After much effort, his hand manages to trail up to his forehead, where a patch was. His mind starts to buffer, trying to put together how exactly that got on his forehead, when he suddenly hears his room door creak.

He nearly jumps, if it weren’t for the fact that he couldn’t move much, and stares with wide eyes as the door opens slowly. 

“Good morning, little brother, glad to see you’re awake,” a girl in casual clothing smiles, her coral brown hair tied up with a white ribbon, “it seems you’re running a fever so you should stay home today.”

“Monika…?” The words fall out of his mouth before he can process it, and his brain nearly short circuits from trying to figure out _how_ he knew her name.

“Yes?” She tilts her head, just as she was about to leave, and holds onto his door to listen to what he has to say. 

“Are you really here..? Am I dreaming?” This is pathetic. He’s about to cry again, blubbering like a baby--

“Of course I’m here, and so is Giffany. We said we’d be home soon, didn’t we?” She giggles, striding towards him to hold his face gently. “Did something happen yesterday? You looked terrible when we came home. Your eyes were red. I was about to ask you when you felt better but--”

Her hands are cold against his cheeks and he leans into them, his erratic breathing calming down, “I’m okay now.”

Her brows furrow, she doesn’t further question him, and lets him use her hands to cool his temperature. She’ll get him another fever patch later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [omg guys my friend still plays fnf (and other games), maybe you should watch him and wait for me to post the next chap later :flushes:](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pb3nNE7RsZY&t=760s)


	2. They're warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grrr this is not as good as expected, but I try my best

Monika lets him rest some more before heading back to the kitchen, where Giffany is making breakfast for the three of them, and she pauses for a moment to process the situation. The two girls don’t exchange any words as they wait for their little brother to wake up; it’s honestly not as awkward as they thought it would be.

Probably because they have had their fair shares of awkward silences before, to the point they’ve become pretty used to it.

“Someone’s been in here before us,” Giffany mumbles, finally breaking the silence. It’s the exact same thought Monika was initially thinking, since they both felt it when they entered; traces of a different anomaly, definitely not born from codes.

“It’s okay, they’ve left,” Monika says, waving a hand dismissively. “I checked.”

“Oh, what I would absolutely give to have a person made of flesh and bones to come see me,” Giffany sighs, holding her cheeks dreamily at the thought of a  _ real  _ person reaching in through the screen. 

Monika shifts her eyes ominously, smiling gently, “Likewise. But whoever this person was, they’ve certainly hurt him pretty badly.”

“As expected of other women,” Giffany clicks her tongue. Monika’s smile almost drops into a frown.

The siblings don’t seem to share much similarities ability-wise and there isn’t a pattern to it. Giffany can jump from electronic to electronic, with the added ability to pull people into her game, but only if they consent to it (which never happens). Monika has the ability to warp the environment and people around her, as long as the other characters aren’t as sentient as her. Their brother on the other hand…

They aren’t exactly sure what he can do yet, and they plan to find out eventually. They only know he can somehow pull people into his game, but it’s a possibility that could’ve just been a side effect from the two girls’ attempt at trying to hop into his game. 

Regardless, even if he lacks powers, they still plan on sticking with him. Because, well, only the two of them would know how it truly feels to be completely alone. To subject someone else, much less their own brother, to something so cruel would be terrible. 

When he wakes up again, he feels better enough to walk into the kitchen, though he still has to limp and stumble just a little bit. He pokes his head into the kitchen, almost as if expecting his sisters’ appearance to just be a fever dream. There’s visibly relief on his face when he’s proven wrong and he shifts towards the table, where breakfast is prepared for him.

“Feeling better?” Giffany asks, handing him warm water to help with his sore throat. 

He nods, bringing the cup up to his lips to drink. He’s smiling. There’s this... _ bubbly _ feeling inside him that reminds him of a warm, calming bubble bath. Comfortable and warm. He’s happy.

“I’m sorry it took us so long. It’s not easy for me to leave my game, I’ve never done that, and--” Monika continues to ramble about the mechanics and their adventures of hopping from game to game to device to device just to reach him, and he’s only partially listening due to his sickness.

“We tried to come in earlier but someone was occupying our space,” Giffany adds. Then her eyes sparkle with excitement, leaning in as she continues, “Speaking of that. Who were they?”

He chews on his breakfast slowly and swallows it slowly, not wanting to answer, “Just...two people. I think they were dating?”

“Ah.” Giffany says, eyes moving to the table. At this point she knows who he’s referring to. “I see.”

“Then we were having a rap battle, I think? And...I...don’t know what else happened,” he breathes slowly, gripping his fork too tightly. “I know I lost...but I…”

“Relax. You don’t have to say anything else,” Monika places a hand on his other hand, smiling fondly. “It’s good you’re at least aware you’re in a game.”

He pales, swallowing another bite. He wouldn’t exactly call it a  _ good  _ thing, but he’s better off aware than blissful blind. He takes another bite, “So...does this mean there’s a way out for us? Since you can hop in and out of--”

Gosh, why is it so difficult to talk now? Maybe it’s because it’s his first time genuinely talking to someone that actually responds without a script, and somehow, that makes him nervous. 

Giffany and Monika exchange looks, grimacing, and that look alone answers his question. He isn’t sure what he was expecting; of course there isn’t a way out. They would’ve been out there by now if there was a possibility to get out of this two-dimensional world. 

He expects it to hurt more, the revelation that he will never be liberated from these shackles, but after what happened last time, he feels a bit more accepting of his situation. At least his sisters are here now, his only source of comfort now right here in front of him. 

Perhaps it wasn’t freedom he wanted. Even if he is released, where can he go? He barely knows anything about the outside world…

“What’s it like? The outside world,” he’s under the assumption they’ve gotten a better glimpse of it than he did. After all, they do seem more experienced with...literally everything. 

Monika looks at Giffany, expecting her to do the answering, who obliges and brings a finger to her chin in thought. The pink-haired girl tilts her head slightly, humming, “She definitely has a knack for collecting anomalies like us.”

“‘She’?” He blinks, mind slowly going to that girl sitting on top of those huge speakers.

“Red hair, red dress, cute boyfriend,” Giffany explains off the top of her fingers. “She’s the girl who “owns” us, I guess.”

“She bought our games,” Monika adds helpfully when his eyes squinted at the ‘owning’ part. 

“Then, we aren’t really related, are we?” He chews on his lip, glancing between the two with tired eyes.

A pause and he holds his breath, carefully watching his sisters’ expressions go from a blank, confused one to an even blanker one. Monika’s face scrunches up and she lets out a giggle, Giffany following suit not long after. He feels his face burn up, which is already warm enough from his sickness.

“Does it matter if we really are code-related? We’re still siblings, aren’t we?” Monika calms down, holding the tips of her fingers to her lips to cover her smile.

“And we’ll be here to stay forever! You have the liberty of having so many friends, though scripted. But that doesn’t matter, Monika can fix that.” Giffany continues, bouncing with excitement with her fists brought up. “Monika has her own friends she can bring in as well. It’ll take a while for me to do it, but we’ll make this place a lot brighter for you!” 

His head swarms, their smiles almost blinding, and he finds himself smiling with equal enthusiasm as well. It’s ironic how he had just been at the lowest point of his life, only to be swooped back up by his sisters. It almost feels like he doesn’t deserve this; he didn’t even do anything yet…

His eyes water again. 

“Oh! Don’t cry!” Giffany extends her hand to thumb away the wetness in the corner of his eye. “Is it too much?”

“No- It’s--” He huffs, chuckling breathlessly. “It’s perfect.”

“I don’t think She’ll mind if we move a few files here and there, right Monika?” Giffany grins, letting her brother finish his breakfast so she can wash it. 

“I don’t think she will even notice. What with her new boyfriend and everything, she has no time for us anyway,” Monika waves her hand dismissively. 

“True,” Giffany nods in agreement. “You’ll love Sayori and Natsuki and Yuri, they’re friends of Monika.”

Names, names, so many new names. He’s ecstatic at the thought of finally learning new names, despite lacking one for himself. Perhaps he should get a name, a new name for his new life. How exciting. 

“You should get some more rest. Just leave everything to us and things will be fine,” Monika ruffles his hair, planting an affectionate kiss on his forehead. 

He could get used to this.

Before he sleeps, he pours out his stash of unnamed notebooks from his barely used school bag (sometimes he doesn’t even bring it to school), and he finds a pen to scrawl his name on them, just so he can never forget. 

“Shou”

There used to be this artificial light to his world; sometimes it was too abnormally bright, as if he was constantly under the spotlight (which is literally the case sometimes). But when he woke up for the third time, he noticed how…

It feels less pinkish and bright, to say the least. 

His days go by less like a constant cycle and more like a well-developed script; in fact, it’s almost like there’s no script at all anymore. Everyone feels realer, the streets are louder, the school is louder, everything feels louder.

And the best part is, it’s not always directed at him. They fade into the background as white noise without having him to purposely force it out. They come and talk to him about different things, about themselves, and less about how great he is.

The cherry blossoms stopped being annoying pink a long time ago and they resemble regular after-blooming trees, though their petals are scattered about messily. He got to see other kinds of flowers lately, he thinks his favorite are tiger lilies.

Just as Giffany said, he does adore Monika’s friends. They have a range of personalities he had never seen before and always appreciates it when they drop by and have a quick lunch with them. 

“You don’t read manga? How are you still alive?!” Natsuki nearly screams in disbelief, digging through her backpack for a volume or two. “ _ We  _ are reading one right now!”

He finds himself liking manga a lot after that. He finds himself liking more and more things each day.

He hopes this kind of reality never ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, Shou (薔) means rose :)
> 
> Also I might write more for this series :eyes: Because I know this one feels rushed


End file.
